


to love more than yesterday

by nopompousjargon



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Pining, Roommates, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23962771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nopompousjargon/pseuds/nopompousjargon
Summary: Falling in love with her is easy; letting her know is not.—college au - one of the many stories of falling in love, out of love, moving on, and an inevitable ending for two people who are destined to meet in this life and the next.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 9
Kudos: 58





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> tw - (vague) implication of homophobia

//

_ It is unlike any other story she’s heard in her life. Then again, it could also be someone else’s story, maybe it just hasn’t reached her ears yet. _

__

_ Clarke met Lexa when they were in high school. Lexa was  _ **_ that _ ** _ student who liked to remain to herself for the most part, always did her work quietly, but was also not averse to working with others when teachers force them to work in groups. _

__

_ Lexa was the type of student who was automatically voted as the leader, and Lexa was the type of student who never refused because it was obvious to everyone that she was the only person capable of leading a couple of students into completion with regards to their projects.  _

__

_ In short, Lexa seems way too cool to be friends with someone like her. _

__

_ They’re not even  _ **_ friends _ ** _. Clarke just likes to think they are because now, in college, being familiar faces from high school has naturally compelled both of them to stick together. Strength in numbers, as people say.  _

__

_ But the thing is, being friends will imply sharing stories with each other, telling the other how her day went or the other way around, or even sharing snacks during breaks.  _

__

_ She and Lexa don’t do any of that. _

__

_ The extent of her conversations with Lexa usually involves school work; how many assignments they have from just one day of school or how many deadlines they have within the semester. _

__

_ So, really, their relationship can only be described as classmates, which again might not work as well because Lexa wants to be a lawyer and Clarke wants to be a painter with her own gallery one day. _

__

_ Totally different circles.  _

//

When people told her that college will be different, Clarke thought of it as a good thing. She still does, to a certain extent, but when rumors about a certain brunette, with the greenest eyes and the most kissable lips, has begun to reach her ears, suddenly she’s not very sure if it is a good thing.

She will not claim to know a lot about Lexa, but having spent a  _ little bit _ of time with her has made her believe that Lexa is just a shy person, and Clarke is a believer of shyness not being synonymous with being an asshole.

“Girl was so rude to me,” rumbles the girl next to her, who Clarke now recognizes as Raven, a friend of Lincoln, her partner from class. “I asked her  _ nicely _ if I can borrow her pen, just for a quick sec, but she didn’t even have the decency to tell me  _ no _ . Girl just gave me this look, like her eyes were so dead, and then, just, ignored me?” She turns to Clarke, wearing the most unbelieving look on her face. “Can you believe someone like that exists? Because I can’t. I really thought they only exist in books, but here we are.”

“Maybe you just caught her on a bad day,” she says with a little shrug. “We all have that.”

“Uh, no,” Raven snorts. “Me on a bad day tell people to fuck off with my  _ words _ because that’s the polite thing to do — not ignore them.”

“Very contradictory, but okay,” she chuckles, sharing a look with Lincoln who, since the start of all this, has wisely chosen to remain quiet.

“I personally think she’s fine,” he quips a moment later. “I’m seatmates with her for psychology; very clean handwriting.”

Raven frowns. “That’s all?”

“She doesn’t really say much,” he shrugs.

Raven looks thoughtful for a second before gasping. “Holy shit. Is she mute?”

“Uh…” Lincoln starts to shrug, but Clarke interrupts them both with a quiet laugh.

“I assure you, she is not.”

“How would you know?” Raven asks.

“I would know,” she shrugs. “I went to high school with her.”

//

_ I went to high school with her _ somehow signaled the start of Raven always asking her about Lexa and it’s starting to reach a point where it’s both confusing and irritating for so many reasons, the most important of which being that she really doesn’t know anything about Lexa.

(And yes, there is a part of her that wishes she  _ did _ .)

So when Raven insists on asking her what Lexa’s interest are, or how she takes her coffee because, apparently, she has plans of  _ thawing _ the ice walls around Lexa, the only thing she can say is:

“Just ask her yourself!”

That doesn’t end her potential friendship with Raven like she feared so when she stomped away to her class after practically screaming at Raven’s face in the middle of the hallway, but it definitely stops the latter from badgering her with questions,  _ finally _ acknowledging that, like most people, Clarke is just as clueless as them.

//

So then starts the everyday episode of seeing Raven hanging around Lexa, in the most literal sense.

Clarke has seen them walk down the hall more than twice every day, though it looks as though Raven’s doing more of the talking than Lexa. For her part, Lexa looks like she has no choice but to let the other girl walk with her, one arm stiffly wrapped around her books while the other is holding her box bag, a habit she seems to have not grown out of just yet from high school.

But then, if it’s not Raven, it’s another girl — or  _ girls _ , to be specific.

Lexa has never come off as a very friendly person, or at least someone who likes surrounding herself with many people, so to see different faces walking alongside her every day is quite… odd.

This must be the instigator of those rumors.

The girl with the greenest eyes and the most kissable lips is a lesbian and she has every single girl, straight or not, following her every step just to get even an ounce of attention from her because making girls fall for her is her vice. Clarke thinks it’s utterly ridiculous and that it’s probably some asshole who got rejected by Lexa that decided to make college life hard for her.

It brings forth this  _ need _ to defend Lexa, not about her  _ possibly _ being a lesbian. No, definitely not, but she  _ wants _ to protect Lexa from such allegation that she makes it a habit of hurting people because… this is Lexa, for fuck’s sake.

The girl basically ignores anything and everything that has nothing to do with her studies.

At least, that’s what Clarke knows.

//

Worrying about Lexa is honestly the last thing she needs to be doing in college. She has papers to type, books to study, and canvases to paint on, so she puts her head on those things. The end of the semester is nearing and it helps her in focusing on more important matters.

She’s not sure if it’s applicable for all students, but her communication with the handful of friends she’s made since the beginning of college has started to wane, but none of them are to be blamed. They are all busy after all.

And that’s exactly what Clarke needs right now — to be busy and to keep her mind off of a certain brunette, who’s probably not even aware of a certain blonde who can’t seem to take her mind off of her.

//

Finals are done, students are packing up for a few weeks of break, and some might even be preparing for a long night of partying because it’s what they deserve.

Clarke was actually invited to one, but she’s not sure if she’s used to being a college student just yet, so she declines  _ for now _ and stays at home on a Friday night instead.

The next morning, most of the students have gone and taken the trip back to their hometowns, meanwhile, Clarke is just coming out of the library after doing some extra reading for the next semester.

No, she’s not a hardworking student. She just doesn’t like to stay at home because her mom is there and their relationship is not okay, for the lack of better word.

But the library is empty and as much as she’d love to stay there to stay away from her mom, she also doesn’t like to risk ever experiencing the  _ horrors _ of quiet libraries. She has heard enough stories from Raven and she’d rather not have Lincoln teasing her for believing Raven.

The campus is mostly deserted at this point. A few people are still present, probably those who decided to stay for the break, but in comparison to a regular school day, it’s  _ definitely _ empty, so the walk to the parking lot is peaceful, even prompting a smile on her lips because this is new, a fresh view of the campus, and a part of her wishes she can see this every day.

As she crosses the bus stop, her steps slow down upon noticing a familiar face, sitting at the waiting area with a bag next to them.

“Lexa?” she stops only a few feet away from the brunette and smiles when the other girl looks at her and acknowledges her with a smile. “Going home, too?”

Lexa glances down at her bag, and for a second there, Clarke starts to feel the beginnings of embarrassment heating up her cheeks because  _ of course _ , she is. Why else would she be sitting at the bus stop with a bag next to her?

But Lexa looks up at her and nods, her lips still stretched just slightly by a smile. “You?”

“Me?” Clarke asks, uselessly pointing to herself. “Uh, no, I just came from the library, actually.”

“And now, you’re going home.”

Clarke nods. “Yeah.”

“So, the answer should have been yes.”

Clarke blinks, confusion fogging her thinking for a moment, but when she realizes what Lexa means, she laughs softly, the redness in her cheeks climbing up to the tips of her ears. “Um, yeah. I’m sorry. I just thought, you know, we’re talking about going home for break. Technically, I go home every day. Don’t really stay on campus.”

“Huh,” Lexa hums, and Clarke’s not sure if she’s mocking her or if she’s amused by the information.

“Don’t judge,” Clarke says just a tad bitterly.

Lexa chuckles silently while shaking her head. “I’m not judging. I’m sorry if it seemed like that. It’s just… fascinating, meeting someone who doesn’t live in the dorm or renting an apartment near campus.” Green eyes flicker down on the space next to her bag, and then a hand gesticulates over the empty spot. “You should sit.”

“You don’t mind me keeping you company?” Clarke asks although she’s already making her way to the bench, slowly lowering herself on the space.

“No,” Lexa says. “You’re familiar and I remember you from high school.”

“I mean, we sometimes talk when we have break together.”

Lexa hums again. “Because I remember you from high school.”

Clarke looks up at her with eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion, albeit her lips remain curled in a smile. “So?”

“So,” Lexa trails off, then shrugs. “I talk to you.”

“And what about the people you remember from the first day of college?” Clarke prompts, which is met by a long stretch of silence from the brunette. She turns to her and blinks at the thoughtful look on Lexa’s face, her eyes seemingly stuck on the gravel beneath their feet, and yet they seem _... unseeing _ .

“Lexa?”

Lexa blinks, as if snapped out of her trance, then she turns to Clarke with an almost empty look in her eyes. “There are so many people in college. Every day is a different person, different name; sometimes I struggle remembering the names of my professors…” she shrugs. “It’s hard to make friends in college.”

“Not if you try,” Clarke says, not unkindly.

“Even if I try,” Lexa replies with a soft laugh. “It’s hard.”

Clarke isn’t sure what to say after that.

A part of her wants to encourage Lexa to put herself out there, to try  _ harder _ in making friends because college is all about meeting people,  _ finding _ people who have the same interests as you, beyond paperwork and deadlines.

But a smaller part of her likes knowing that she’s the only one who gets to see this side of Lexa. The one who’s open to having conversations with her, no matter how little it is, and the one who doesn’t ignore her and dismisses her with just an empty look.

It’s selfish, she knows, and so she shakes it out of her head.

“Well, I’ll be your friend,” Clarke says, offering a smile to the brunette. “A familiar face from high school.”

_ A familiar face from high school _ , later on, becomes the first phrase on the fifteenth page of her journal, telling about that Saturday morning, at the bus stop, where she meets Lexa on the first day of break.

The journal entry tells about how her heart felt as if someone had grabbed it and squeezed it very quickly when Lexa looked at her with such tenderness and gratefulness; how she felt like she could stay there forever, sitting on the stiff bench, losing herself in the depth of those green eyes, probably making a fool out of herself while trying her best to come up with topics to keep the both of them occupied; and how she almost invited Lexa for coffee if not for the bus inevitably arriving, leaving her standing by the bus stop, bidding Lexa goodbye with a shaky wave of her hand, and  _ knowing _ that after that Saturday morning, her life is never going to be the same again.


	2. chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> clarke is just an impulsive college student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments! Hope you like this one.
> 
> All errors are mine. No beta.

Entering the first week of break feels like a relief and a burden at the same time.

Just like everybody else, Clarke is glad to have nothing to worry about for the next few days after  _ months _ of heavy work in college. Even more so when she finally realizes that she has more time for her hobbies. 

In the morning, she makes quick work of setting up breakfast for her and her mother. It used to be the other way around, but ever since she started college, she found that doing stuff in the house early in the morning helps her focus more on her studies for the rest of the day, feeling more energized as opposed to just sitting her ass in front of the table and eating whatever her mom cooked for breakfast.

That, too.

Her mother has always been tied by long shifts at the hospital and while Clarke appreciates the fact that she always makes time for breakfast, sometimes she wishes to go back in time and live in days when her mother cooked things other than scrambled eggs. 

She knows better than to be ungrateful, but she can’t help it. She’s young, someone once told her, and it’s okay to wish for more and, well, Clarke knows she’s not going to get it any time soon, or ever, so she decided she’ll take matters in her own hands.

“Hi, sweetie.”

Her mother’s footsteps pull her out of her thoughts. Clarke smiles up at her mom, greeting her back in a soft voice as her mom bends down for a kiss on the cheek that she barely felt. 

“I made pancakes and fried sausages,” she says. “I hope it’s okay.”

“Oh, sweetie. It’s perfect,” her mom replies as she sits on the chair next to her, never on the one opposite to hers. “Thank you for breakfast.”

Clarke merely responds with a short smile as her mother immediately digs in. She does the same, but her movements are slower than that of her mother’s. She cuts her pancake in small, bite-sized chunks, nibbling on it as she peeks at her mom from her peripheral. Her mom used to sit in front of her on the table, always said that it made it easier for her to see Clarke during meals, made conversations easier, too, since she doesn’t have to turn and strain her neck.

All that has changed since her father died. 

Suddenly, she’s sitting beside her, not even looking at her when she’s talking to her, and Clarke wonders if things still have a chance of changing. Or going back to how they were before. Sometimes she wonders if she even misses her mother, or maybe all this is brought forth by a small amount of resentment for the woman that has become of her mother. 

She takes in a deep breath and focuses on eating. It is too early to be thinking about those things and truthfully, it’s exhausting — so exhausting that for the first time since the semester break, she wants to go back in time and apply for a room on campus instead. That will definitely give her plenty of excuses not to go home during breaks. 

Then again, she lives twenty minutes away from campus.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor snaps her out of her thoughts. Turning to her left, she blinks and follows her mother’s retreating form with her eyes. “You’re done, mom?”

“Yes, sweetie,” her mom replies from the kitchen, the sound of water muffling her words a little bit. “I’m taking Molly’s shift for the next few days. It’s her husband’s week off for the first time since the new year so she’s taking some time off to spend it with her family.”

Clarke purses her lips at the information. “That’s nice,” she swallows, her voice merely a whisper. “Must be nice to spend time with family.”

“Right?” The dishwasher’s door slams closed, and then her mother reemerges with a tentative smile. “She deserves it. She and her husband work so hard; hopefully, this trip will do them good. I think Molly mentioned something about finally trying for a baby.”

Clarke grimaces with a snort. “Mom, I don’t really need to know about that.”

Her mom chuckles and bends down to kiss her on the cheek again, and this time, she actually feels it. “I’m sorry. Anyway, I’m heading out,” she turns and grabs her keys from the counter, still speaking even as she’s halfway out the door. “Make sure to lock up if you leave the house today, okay? Take care, sweetie!”

The door slams shut, and Clarke’s left at the dining area all alone.

“Yeah. Bye.”

//

Staying at home seemed like a good idea at first.

While she’s lived for almost a decade in Arcadia, most of her friends from high school have moved out of town so she doesn’t really know  _ a lot  _ of people anymore. There’s Finn and he’s a nice guy. She knows that if she really runs out of options, she can pick up her phone and dial the number of her childhood friend, but things have always been awkward with Finn since the night of graduation. He had been that boy throughout most of her years in school who stayed by her side through thick and thin. He was her best friend, the only guy she trusted with things about her family or even sensitive things about herself because Finn was never like any other guy his age. 

He never judged, he never looked at her wrong, and he never made her uncomfortable. She could say that he was like a brother to her, but then that would be a lie. 

He wasn’t like a brother to her — a friend, but never more. 

And that is one reason why things became strained with him. After he confessed about having feelings for her, Clarke has found herself not knowing how to act around him. As much as she wants to stay and be his friend, she knows it can hurt him, knowing that she doesn’t return her feelings, and so she’s stuck with being her friend and leaving him alone and… well, she wonders if that makes her a bad friend or not.

She sighs heavily through her thoughts and glances around her room, looking for something.  _ Anything _ to focus on, until her gaze lands on a drawer to her far-right, which she remembers as the one that contains most of her sketchbooks from high school.

She practically jumps out of her bed and goes over to pull it open.

She inevitably finds herself outside the house, sitting on warm grass with a sketchbook on her lap and enjoying the warmth of the afternoon. She has plenty of sketchbooks to fill up with drawings, plenty of spaces to occupy now that she’s all alone — well, there’s the kitten her mom had brought in from a nearby shelter just a week ago and she’s been nothing but a little menace to Clarke.

Her name is Bee and she has a  _ ridiculous _ habit of hissing at Clarke whenever she’s near her mom. As if Clarke has been actively fighting for her mom’s attention with her… 

Clarke shakes her head at the thought and then snorts when the little feline pops out of nowhere, staring at her as Clarke is the newcomer in this household. 

“I hate to inform you, you little demon, but I’ve lived here way before you were born — or even created,” she grimaces. “Not a cute image to have in my head.” 

But the kitten just keeps on staring at her, as if waiting for her to make the first move, and honestly, the grass is starting to get a little uncomfortable, so she moves to stand, which prompts the little kitten to puff up and do that funny crab walk she always does when Clarke’s  _ threatening _ her, which is obviously not the case.

She merely rolls her eyes at the kitten and brushes off her denim short with one hand, the other still holding the sketchbook she’d been drawing on for hours now. There are probably five, new pages of doodles and little sketches — all of which, obviously, are going to stay hidden in her drawers lest she wants another drama to ensue in her house at the chance that her mom sees it.

She’s not quite ready for another round of that, hasn’t been for two years now.

Anyways, she has a bigger problem to tackle on at the moment: feeding Bee.

She beckons the little kitten inside the house and aside from a few threatening hisses and a couple of swipes on her hand, things go pretty well. She leaves her sketchbook in her drawer after that and changes into outdoor clothes, figuring that she might as well walk around the little town, see things she hasn’t bothered seeing since she started focusing more on going back and forth the university. 

She also decides to scoop the little kitten from the floor before heading out and put her in her little bag — with her head sticking out, of course. She’d rather deal with a hissing furball than come back home to a hundred rolls of tissue paper shredded on the floor. 

“We’re buying some stuff at the store, Bee,” she whispers to the kitten while making her way down the street where her favorite store is located. “You better behave or I’m going the other way and dropping you at the shelter again.”

The kitten just looks up at her and releases a pretty loud  _ meow,  _ looking at her with so much judgment Clarke decides never to look down again.

//

The store hasn’t changed at all. Not that she expects it to see any changes, given that she’s always on grocery task which means that she’s always visiting at least once a week. And that’s a good thing. The grocery store is familiar, it’s comfortable, and she’s memorized every single lane and their contents, where her favorite boxed juice is or her favorite brand of instant noodle is located.

She walks through each aisle with a familiarity that only she can have, but she can’t quite say the same about the furball in her bag. Bee turns at everything that seems interesting to her,  _ meowing _ at it with much vigor that she fears the big, old man might hunt her down and kick her out for causing unnecessary noise.

But the grocery store is animal friendly as far as she can remember, so she gets rid of that horrifying thought and hushes the little furball, poking its little nose to push it back into her bag. 

She rounds one shelf and smiles at the sight of her favorite boxed juice. She takes two boxes of apple juice and grabs a bottle of energy drink for her mom — because, despite everything, she loves her mom enough to remember her during her trips to whatever place. 

Unlike her mom.

She sighs and turns to leave the section, content with what she has in her hands, only to freeze in place when she spots a familiar face at the end of the aisle. 

There, down on one knee while busy stacking cans of juice on one shelf, is Lexa. 

She looks just like how she typically looks at school. Her hair is down, showcasing her tastefully messy locks, but instead of her usual dark top and black skinny jeans, Lexa is wearing a white, v-cut shirt, inserted at the front of her blue jeans and left hanging loose at the back. 

For some reason, she suddenly looks very… bright.

Bee apparently thinks this is the perfect time to make her presence known again. Both girls jump at the sound of the little kitten’s  _ meow.  _ Lexa turns to the source of the sound while Clarke remains rooted in her place, waiting in silence as that pair of green eyes slowly found their way from Bee’s  _ annoying _ face to her  _ probably horrified-looking  _ face.

Lexa merely blinks at her, obviously unsure of what to make of Clarke’s presence, while Clarke sighs out in defeat. 

“Hi, Lexa…” she greets the other, smiling sheepishly.

Lexa just looks at her as she straightens up a little bit. Her lips part, as if ready to say something, but the big, old man who usually mans the cashier appears from behind the shelf and says, “Lexa, take five.” He nods at Lexa but eventually realizes Clarke is also there. “Ms. Griffin, doing grocery again?”

Clarke clears her throat. “Just buying snacks, Gustus.”

He grumbles in response and leaves, probably heading back to the cashier. 

Clarke looks back at Lexa, who is still down on the floor, silently staring at the cans in the box, probably counting them and debating whether she should take that break and make the most of it or just finish things up. Clarke should honestly go and leave Lexa to her work or break, but for some reason, she finds herself walking a little closer and offering the brunette a tentative smile when those green eyes find hers again.

“He told you to take a break,” she says, slowly placing a hand over her open bag to keep the kitten inside despite its angry protests. Then, she shakes the boxes in her hand. “Want to share and talk?”

//

Clarke’s actually surprised that Lexa left her station and joined her on the bench outside the store. Things aren’t as smooth as she had hoped, though; not like the day they saw each other outside the campus and talked while Lexa waited for her bus. Instead, they’re sitting quietly next to each other while sipping on their apple juice, Clarke a little bit busier than Lexa, given that she has a little kitten to hush and feed little treats now and then.

It’s when Lexa’s straw makes a loud sound signaling an empty box that she finally turns to Clarke with a little smile. “Thanks for the treat. You really didn’t have to.” 

Clarke blinks and coughs a little when the juice goes down the wrong pipe. “It’s nothing,” she chuckles. “I was bored at home anyway and… yeah, your company is much appreciated.” 

“I could have bought my own drink.”

Clarke dismisses it. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Is that your kitten?” Lexa asks, smiling at the little, furry head poking outside the bag.

“Yes,” Clarke pokes the kitten’s head again. “Specifically, my mom’s.”

“It’s cute.”

_ Like you. _ Clarke visibly cringes at her thought and decides to change the topic:

“Tell me why you’re here instead.”

“Aside from obviously working at the store?” Lexa asks, voice laced with a little bit of mirth. 

“Aside from that,” Clarke rolls her eyes but blushes nonetheless. “I didn’t know you lived nearby.”

“I don’t,” Lexa nods. “I live in Polis.  _ Lived. _ ”

“That’s quite away from here,” Clarke frowns. “… Lived?”

Lexa hums, looking down at her empty box of juice. “I used to live with my sister, but she moved out recently to stay with her girlfriend so…” she sighs softly. “I can’t afford the apartment on my own. She offered to continue paying for it but… the apartment’s too big for one person. We agreed it’s best that I stay with relatives here in Arkadia for a while before the start of the semester.”

“It gives you time to look for a place,” Clarke supplies, to which Lexa responds with a nod. “Have you tried applying for a room on campus?”

“I have,” Lexa shrugs. “But they don’t have available single rooms at the moment. They were strict about needing a definite roommate for a double room upon application and I don’t really know anyone who needs a place at the dorm.”

In the future, Clarke will look back on this moment as the day she pretty much seals her fate with Lexa. She’ll realize that she didn’t have to make the offer, had  _ no _ reason to make the offer, but maybe it’s the underlying need to get closer to Lexa, to know more about her, that pushes her to say the words, anyway.

“I’ll sign up with you.”

Lexa looks up at her with a start, blinking, eyes wide with obvious shock and confusion. “You will?”

“Yeah,” Clarke shrugs, clearly trying to underplay her panic. “I live twenty minutes away from campus and I think it’s about time I save those extra dollars of gas for something else.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Definitely sure,” she nods, showing Lexa that she is sure. 

Lexa stares at her with a look on her face that isn’t exactly new or out of the norm. Lexa has always had the habit of looking at people as if they two pairs of eyes or something, not that she looks like she’s judging them. She just has this way of expressing her thoughts or emotions, or lack thereof. Clarke’s not entirely sure, but Clarke knows enough to identify it as Lexa waiting for the other shoe to drop like there’s a catch when Clarke had offered to be her roommate.

And, well, there’s none, really. 

Clarke’s just an impulsive college student who will still need the permission of her mother about the matter.

But god does Clarke know that she will do everything to keep her word — all because the person she’s talking to is Lexa Woods. 

“Okay,” Lexa says after another two seconds of silently staring at Clarke. “I’ll be applying tomorrow. If you want, we can meet up so we can fill-up the form together so you don’t have to send me private information and stuff.” 

“Totally,” Clarke says, a bit too quickly. “Not that I mind you knowing stuff. It’s just name and address and age, right?”

Lexa huffs laughingly while looking down. “Might be more than that.”

And Clarke finds herself not really caring about anything, and as they fall into a comfortable silence, she thanks the stars still hidden under the brightness of the descending sun for the outcome of what she thought was going to be another mundane day during break. 

Suddenly, things don’t feel as mundane anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue for now. Let me know if you're interested for more.  
> Thanks for reading. :)


End file.
